


Recovery

by Shaedero



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Interpretive ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 22:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13258011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaedero/pseuds/Shaedero
Summary: Following the events in the Tower and the Pods' decision to give the two androids another chance at life, 2B and 9S must come to terms with their past. Interpretation of what occurs directly after Ending E.





	Recovery

_[Unit 9S -- Commence boot sequence]._

 

Dark.

A vast, empty expanse of darkness extending into infinity.

The android drifted through it without sensation. He was dead, after all. The last thing he had felt was his synthetic muscles seizing up as the fuel drained from his body and his motor functions failed. His memories had slowly crumbled away until he could no longer remember his experiences, his purpose, or even his name. There was only one thing that had remained in his fading consciousness: 2B, and his consuming desire to finally reunite with her.

Though even that had begun to slip away.

Now, as he had no recollection to call his own, no physical or mental sensation of any kind, it made sense that he must have finally died and was currently drifting into the afterlife. If androids did indeed have souls, that is, and if such a thing existed at all. For the sake of reuniting with ~~2B~~ someone important, he certainly hoped it did. He didn't think he could bear the isolation any longer.

But was this...consciousness? A tiny speck of light flickering in the darkness, the faintest inkling of _awareness,_ even if lacking sensory input? It had grown into dimly conscious thought without him noticing.

The android wasn't sure how it started, just that now he could _feel..._ emotionally, anyway. He felt lost… and alive? He was fairly certain that he shouldn't be. He had no expectation of being saved or rebuilt. But why was that?

Panic seized him for a moment as self-preservation returned. If he was alive, then where was he? Was he safe?

A female, robotic voice echoed in his mind:

_[Unit 9S -- Commence boot sequence]._

It was gently prompting him to do something.

Finally, his instincts kicked in and he remembered what to do. Following start-up procedure, he began to boot his systems.

The familiar, blocky maze of his internal data tree landscape flickered into dim, distorted focus, and he proceeded to activate his visual sensors. That was better; now he could see, though the outside world would have to wait until he actually opened his eyes. He had other matters to take care of first.

With a bit of maneuvering, he found his auditory sensors and activated those as well. He first heard crackling static, which quickly faded to be replaced by the distant sigh of a breeze.

Next came his tactile input, which greeted him with an explosive sensation of soreness he couldn't begin to describe, when finally it was time for his memories.

For some reason, he hesitated. The data portal loomed before him ominously, as though its contents were something insurmountable, and best left unknown.

The android shook the feeling off. _Don't be ridiculous; these are my memories. They belong to me, no matter the consequence_ , he thought sternly. _Besides, with a one-two punch, my curiosity would be the inevitable victor._

He activated the data node.

A torrent of data exploded from the portal in a jumble of nonsensical experiences and emotions. He flinched and retreated deeper into his internal system, but it pursued him.

All around him popped up images from his memories in a chaotic mass of experience. The gaps were filled as all the pieces fell into place non-sequentially and forcefully, and it _hurt._

 _Something must have been rough with the data transfer,_ he thought weakly.

When it finally stopped, he forced himself to make sense of it.

_- > ...My name...is 9S. _

_- > ...I am a Scanner model designed for recon and information-gathering. I belong to the just cause of wiping out machine lifeforms for the glory of mankind. I belong to YoRHa. _

_- > ...Y̵͟͟o̕͏R̵̨̧̧H̴̶͘͘͜a̵͡…… _

Then the truth resurfaced. The horrible truth. He remembered all of it. The machines, the lies, the _pain..._ and the hate.

The hate.

-> ...

But it felt distant. As if it just didn't matter anymore.

He supposed it didn't. The Terminals were gone. Adam and Eve were gone. They pursued the stars, and a new world, a new start. They had left the war behind.

The logic virus was gone.

YoRHa was gone.

2B was gone.

And there was no one left to hate.

...So now what?

For a moment he felt completely lost. What purpose did he have? No humanity to protect, no mission to carry out, no dear companion to have by his side.

2B…

Swallowed by grief, he looked to his memories. He saw images of himself and 2B repeated over and over again throughout their journey. Their companionship, their shared struggle against the machines and the network of lies, and the longing to fulfill their programming...to feel humanity.

Without her by his side, and with no revenge to take...what was the point of continuing on? He silently wept at the futility of it all.

But then he remembered: he was _alive._ Though after that battle with A2...he certainly shouldn't be. So why? 

At least that was a mystery worth investigating

 

_- > Running final system check… _

_- > Sensory inputs active _

_- > Vitals green _

_- > Black box temperature normal _

_- > Commencing system boot _

 

9S opened his eyes.

“[Unit 9S activated. Good morning, 9S].”

That was Pod 153. It had reactivated its logic systems...that meant either he or A2 had died. Given the state of things, he sure felt like he'd been dragged into the void and back.

He was very sore. He wasn't lying on his back as he should have been to avoid seizing, so he supposed that was natural.

Aside from that, his vision was currently focused on a blurry, black shape in front of his nose. After wiggling his fingers, he confirmed it was his right hand. He tested for response in his limbs down to his digits, ensuring everything was as it should be...which it wasn't.

His receptors laced with pain as he realized he was missing his left forearm. The stump sparked and fizzed. With the reactivation of his system and the movement of fuel, red liquid began to drip from the mangled cords.

_Damn, forgot about that._

With effort, he shifted his attention past his hand and to the form beyond it.

Everything ground to a halt.

2B.

Or a model of her, anyway.

She was lying on her side, hand stretched out towards him. Her silvery-white hair swept over her visor elegantly, and everything about her was intact, in contrast to 9S’s own battered form. She looked peaceful.

He reached out and touched her face, dragging his thumb along her cheek.

_I miss you._

He fought back a choking sensation before it could strangle him, and turned his attention to his surroundings.

Pod 153 floated into view. It was awaiting orders.

9S coughed and struggled into a seated position before mustering the strength to speak. “Pod, give me a situational status report.”

“[Report: Unit 9S and Unit 2B were transported from the Tower during the collapse and seen to safety by Pod 153 and Pod 042. Ark confirmed to have launched, and lifeforms Terminals, Adam, and Eve were on board. Immediate machine threat averted].”

9S took a moment to process its words. “Averted, huh? There are still stragglers, I suppose.”

“[Affirmative].”

He fell silent. So he was alive, by some miracle, and the culminations of machine evolution were gone. The war was over, at least for now. He supposed he could make himself useful by preventing the rise of another machine network, but….

He glanced at the model 2B lying next to him, then at the surroundings.

They were on a rooftop in the city ruins. The overgrown vegetation snarled around the building, and large canopies of leaves reached towards them a little ways away. The sky was clear, and the sun warmed his synthetic skin. He sighed.

“[Proposal: Unit 9S should state his intentions].”

“I don't know them yet,” he said bitterly.

“[Proposal: Unit 9S should assume a search for potential maintenance].”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“[One affirmation is sufficient].”

9S glared at his pod. Then, “Pod, why is this model of 2B here?”

“[Unit 2B was retrieved from the Tower alongside Unit 9S and brought to safety].”

“Safety? It's a--”

Then it sank in. “Wait, _Unit_ 2B? This….” He swallowed. “This is just a model, isn't it?”

“[Negative. This android body was retrieved from the Tower and given the memories of Unit 2B which had previously been stored in Virtuous Contract. This android is Unit 2B].”

The world swayed around him. It couldn't be real...could it?

Could he allow himself that hope?

...Was there even a debate on the matter?

9S snapped his gaze back to the pod. “Pod, what's the current status of Unit 2B?”

“[Hypothesis: Unit 2B is currently undergoing system start-up procedure. Proposal: Unit 9S should request data exchange with Unit 2B-assigned Pod 042 for further details].”

He glanced over. Pod 042 was sitting on the ground next to 2B. It waved.

“Pod 042,” 9S gasped. “What's the current status of Unit 2B?”

“[Unit 2B is undergoing system boot. Data transfer via NFCS weapon is not recommended, and as such, the implementation of memory data into Unit’s cognition requires additional time].”

9S could only stare at 2B in wonder.

It was really her? He was sure he'd never see her again. Not in this life, anyway.

Gently, he turned her so that she was lying on her back, and lay her arms out by her sides.

Though he was gazing at 2B, he directed this statement to the pods.

“...Thank you.”

“[You're very welcome].”

...Was that in their programming?

Suddenly feeling it was in the way, 9S yanked off his visor, then fumbled one-handedly with 2B’s until it fell away.

Her eyes were closed in peaceful slumber...or the android equivalent, anyway. He watched her silently.

“[Proposal: Unit 9S should stay by Unit 2B’s side until activation in order to ensure Unit’s safety].”

“Heh...quality idea, Pod.”

For an indefinite length of time, 9S sat by 2B’s side and waited. Until finally, she opened her eyes.

She stared ahead for a moment, then focused on 9S. He saw recognition cross her face. “9...S?”

9S fought back tears, offering her a weak smile. “Yes.”

She seemed confused. “But...I don't…”

“We're _alive,_ 2B. _You're_ alive.”

“...How?”

“The pods. They rescued me, and rebuilt you. Your memories from where you put them in that sword and everything. Isn't that incredible? I mean, YoRHa’s still gone, but the machines are gone too-- the masterminds behind them, anyway; I'll have to conduct a survey of the ruins and find out _how_ that big ol’ Ark was sleeping right under our noses, as well as the nuances of the Tower’s functionality and the evolutionary stratagem the machines used that allowed them to--”

“Nines.”

He stopped, eyes wide.

She smiled at him, eyes glistening with tears. She raised a hand to his cheek. “I'm glad you're okay.”

He made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “That's my line. That's my line, damn it….”

She sat up and put her arms around him. He buried his face in her shoulder.

“I never thought I'd see you again.”

“Nor I you.”

“It's like a miracle, huh?”

“If it is, then maybe I'll put my task of killing whatever god there is on hold.”

9S chuckled. “It's the least you could do, I suppose.”

2B pulled away gently and swept her gaze over his less-than-optimal condition.

“What did I tell you about keeping up with maintenance?” she asked sternly.

He couldn't tell if she was joking or not. He laughed anyway.

“Sorry, 2B. Things got a little rough.”

“I can see that.” She glanced around. “At any rate, we should get back to the Resistance Camp. Maybe they can help you.” She pointed at the stump of his arm. “And find a replacement for that.”

He opened his mouth to reply when Pod 153 edged into his vision. It was holding a forearm.

9S gaped at it. “Is that--?”

“[This 9S model forearm was found on spare 9S model contained in access terminal. Field repair recommended until further maintenance may be conducted].”

“Heh, you're are all over this. All right, give it here.” Retrieving the limb, he braced himself, then jammed it into the socket.

His pain receptors flared as a wave of tingling fire seared through his synthetic nerves. The severed cords attached themselves to some degree, though it wasn't optimal. Once the tingling finally subsided, he only had control over three of his fingers. Even so, it was better than what he had, and it would do for now.

He ran a quick scan for any viruses and happily found himself clean. Field transplants always came with a risk.

2B was watching him carefully. “Better?”

“More or less.”

She rose stiffly and dusted off her skirt. “Good. Let's get going.” She retrieved her visor and tied it on. 9S did the same.

“Can you walk?”

“Yes,” he answered before he really knew. He staggered upright, only to feel something fail in his knees’ motor controls. He lurched, and attempted to summon his blade as a crutch. Nothing happened. He face-planted into the concrete unceremoniously, and was greeted with an error message:

_[ERROR: NFCS OFFLINE]._

“...No.”

9S swore he saw 2B crack a smile. “Fine. Come here.”

She looped one arm around his back and the other under his knees and carried him, bridal style. Wasting no time, she began walking in the direction of the Resistance Camp.

 _Ugh...not this again,_ 9S thought, embarrassed. _Stupid motor system._

“Heh...Uh, I guess that virus did more damage than I thought,” he said lightly.

She looked at him, concerned. “The logic virus? You were infected?”

“Yeah...Seems it died with me. Should be gone for good.”

“Hmm...I sure hope so.”

9S braced himself as 2B descended the ruined building, leaping from one floor to the next. The long grass lapped at her heels as she strode quickly and purposefully, and moose and boars roamed about the overgrown cityscape.

9S watched them silently. He'd read from the databases that mammals such as these normally lived far away from human settlements due to the humans’ activity. But what drove them away, exactly? What didn't they like? All the concrete? Sure, the habitat didn't quite match up, but what made them so vehemently stay away? He'd heard the humans were exponential in number, but were there really that many of them living in this cramped space, enough that they would isolate themselves from the natural world with their flurry of activity? He didn't know how they could stand living like that. How could one focus?

 _Humans sure were strange,_ 9S could only deduce.

He turned his attention back to himself and 2B, and noticed the awkward silence stretching out between them. It was funny, he thought. Upon ever seeing her again, 9S figured he would’ve had no end of subjects to talk about with her. But now that they were actually together again, he found he hadn't a clue of what to say.

“So, uh...nice weather, isn't it?”

She didn't respond, and her mouth was a grim line. He panicked internally for a moment.

“...9S.”

“Yeah?”

“You figured it out, didn't you?”

“Figured out…?”

“My true designation.”

“Oh. Well...yes. But it doesn't matter anymore, 2B. I'd say the end of an organization is enough to render their orders moot.”

She managed a weak smile. “I suppose. But...how many times, I wonder? How many times must you have made that deduction?”

“Well, I guess I wouldn't know,” he said, perhaps a little more bitterly than he intended.

“You must hate me,” she said sadly. “I'm sorry.”

He glanced up at her in alarm. “Oh-- no, of course not! I could never hate you, 2B. It wasn't your fault.” He placed a hand on her cheek. “It's all in the past, anyway. You're finally free.”

A quiet, poignant sigh of relief, and a warm smile. “You're right. Thank you, Nines.”

With that they reached the Resistance Camp and walked inside. The Members noticed them and began shouting cries of relief, waving to each other and yelling for their leader. They slapped 2B on the back and ruffled 9S’s hair, laughing. It was warm.

Anemone rushed over with tears in her eyes and hugged them both. She placed a hand on 2B’s shoulder disbelievingly. “Both of you...back from the dead! You were nowhere to be found, 9S was missing for two weeks and, well, we assumed….” She laughed. “Not that it matters now.” She glanced at 9S. “ _One_ of you is looking a little rough, though. What happened there?”

“It's a long story,” 9S mumbled, bashful.

2B stepped in. “Sorry to ask this of you, Anemone, but do you have any parts to spare? 9S requires thorough maintenance.”

“Of course. We'll get you both taken care of, all right? You YoRHa types are fancy, but I'm sure our resources will be more than adequate.” She beamed at them. “It’s so good to have you both back. Welcome home.”

The pair smiled in relief, and 9S glanced up at 2B. “It's good to be home.”

 


End file.
